Red
by rittenden
Summary: Charlie gets a new car. Oneshot. Originally posted on the Numb3rs Fanrush site.


"All right, Professor Eppes," the young man said genially. "If you'll just sign here."

Charlie took the proffered pen and smiled nervously. "Sorry," he said as his hand hovered over the page. "It's a big step."

"Yes, it is," the man agreed. "But I don't think you'll regret it." He smiled reassuringly. "Take your time – there's no hurry."

Nodding, Charlie took a deep breath and put pen to paper, signing his name with a flourish. When he was done, he tossed the pen onto the desk and sat back with a triumphant grin. "There!" he exclaimed. "It's done!"

"Yes it is," the man agreed, gathering the pages into a neat pile and placing them in a manila folder. "Although I have to admit to being a bit curious."

"About what?"

The man got up from his chair and came around the desk. "Well, if I may say so, Professor Eppes, you seem awfully nervous about this and yet you own your own home. I don't understand why this was so difficult for you."

"Ah, well," Charlie began, standing. "I don't have the best of luck with automobiles, you see." He followed the sales representative onto the showroom floor and stood staring at his latest acquisition, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's beautiful, though, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it is," the man agreed. Glancing at Charlie he added, "But then, I might be considered a little biased."

Charlie laughed. "Yes, I guess you would be." He looked at the vehicle in front of him and sighed in satisfaction. "I'm feeling more than a little bit biased myself right now."

The salesman grinned. "And so you should," he replied. "The Dodge Viper is a car worth being biased over."

Nodding, the mathematician took in the vehicle's sleek lines and low profile. It was purely aesthetics that had drawn Charlie's eye to the convertible – he imagined if he'd thought about it, there were probably many mathematical aspects about the car that appealed to him, but for right now his interests were purely pleasure-based.

It was a _hot_ car. Black leather on the inside and Viper red on the outside, the polished aluminum rims glittering in the light cast by strategically-placed lamps on the showroom floor. The car demanded to be noticed. And Charlie had noticed, all right. He stared at the salesman in delight as the other man dropped a set of keys in his hand. "Congratulations, Professor Eppes," he said.

"Thank you," Charlie replied breathlessly.

The man informed him they would have the doors opened immediately and the other vehicles moved so he could drive his new car out of the showroom. Ordinarily, they would have driven it out for him but Charlie had insisted on doing it himself.

He was a little nervous at first, but the high-performance car slid off the showroom floor like an Olympic skater on freshly groomed ice and soon Charlie was whipping down the freeway with a smile of boyish delight on his features. He was careful to mind the speed limit – although part of him wanted to find out how fast his new car would really go – and he drove for almost an hour with no particular destination in mind, just simply enjoying the ride. He found the manual transmission helped him focus on his driving better than an automatic and Charlie finally felt he really understood the big deal people made over driving.

After a while the mathematician decided to head over to the FBI office. He wanted to show off his pride and joy to his brother, Don. Just the thought of the look on the agent's face upon seeing the car was enough to set Charlie to grinning all over again. He pulled the car into the visitor's parking stall, gunning the motor once before shutting it off. Charlie climbed out and closed the door, using his sleeve to wipe at a speck of imaginary dust on the hood before arming the security system and heading inside.

Once upstairs, Charlie headed for his brother's cubicle, dismayed to find it empty. "Where's Don?" he asked Megan as she rounded the corner.

"He's gone to pick up a suspect for questioning on the Lassiter case," she replied. "I'm actually glad you're here, Charlie. I need your help with something." Charlie half-reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged into a nearby conference room where Megan outlined what she needed. Soon he was immersed in expressions and algorithms, the original purpose for his visit forgotten.

Two hours later he waved Megan over, announcing he had a solution to her problem. Quickly explaining his findings, Charlie snapped his fingers suddenly. "I forgot!" he exclaimed. "Is Don back yet?"

Megan gave him an uneasy look. "Yeah," she replied slowly. "But I wouldn't bother him right now, Charlie. He's not in a very good mood."

"Is he alright?" the mathematician asked, worry etched on his features.

She nodded. "Physically he's fine. Mentally… he's not that great. I'd leave him alone if I were you, Charlie. He's got a ton of paperwork to do."

"Oh." Charlie thought for a second and then decided his reveal could wait. It was one thing to show Don the car when he was in a good mood – another matter entirely if he wasn't. Charlie didn't want his brother to think he was gloating. "Well," the young genius said. "I think I'll head for home. Talk to you later, Megan."

The agent nodded. "Take it easy, Charlie," she replied.

Charlie headed out of the conference room, taking note of the fact that his brother's cubicle was still empty. At least he didn't have to see his big brother putting on a brave face for his sake. It was almost painful to watch when Don did that. Charlie nodded in greeting at the familiar faces as he headed out of the office and back down to the parking lot.

He found his brother there, standing on the sidewalk talking to another man in a suit. He saw Charlie and waved but made no attempt to stop him. Charlie shrugged and walked over to his prized possession. What he found froze him in place and the mathematician stared, slack-jawed.

His beautiful, brand new Viper had been hit. Not just bumped into. Hit. The back end of it had been crumpled into the rear seat, buckling the doors and cracking the windshield in the process. The back wheels had been pushed forward slightly, the leading edge of the tires not visible in the wheel wells. Charlie swallowed.

"Hey buddy." Don stood beside him, staring at the car. "What a mess, huh?"

Nodding slightly, the mathematician asked, "What happened?"

Don shuffled his feet. "I really wish I knew. One minute I was pulling out to go for lunch and the next thing I knew the steering wheel went wild in my hands. I tried stepping on the brakes, but they failed." He sighed. "Looks like someone tampered with my truck, actually."

"Oh."

"Damn shame about the car though," Don went on, oblivious to Charlie's distress. "Security is checking to see if they can locate the owner now."

Charlie shook his head slowly. "Don't bother," he whispered.

"What's that?"

Lifting his eyes to his brother's face, the young genius said, "It's mine."

Don stared at him, speechless. "Yours?" he finally choked out on a laugh. "Stop fooling around, Charlie."

The mathematician shook his head slowly. "I'm not," he replied quietly, staring at his car. "It's only…" Glancing at his watch, Charlie blinked back tears. "Four and a half hours off the lot."

Covering his mouth with his hand, Don looked from the car to his brother and back again. "Oh, man," he whispered finally. "I'm so sorry, Charlie."

Charlie lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "It doesn't matter," he said with a sigh. "It's only a car." He dug his cell phone out of his pocket. From another Charlie dug out a card and dialed a number.

Don moved over to the other agents gathered around. Telling one of them to notify security that the owner had been found, he instructed the others to go back to work on examining his SUV. That completed, he went over to stand beside his brother.

Charlie had finished his phone call and was now leaning on a cement planter, staring despondently at his car. The expression on his face spoke volumes as to what he was thinking. Don cleared his throat to speak, but Charlie cut him off. "My insurance company is sending a truck to pick it up."

"The FBI will probably cover the damages, you know."

"Right," the younger man sneered. "It's not bad enough that I have to pay for it once."

Don frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Charlie stood and looked at his brother. "Federal agents are paid by the government through taxes. My taxes. So if the FBI pays for this, essentially I'm paying for it." He shook his head. "No thanks. I'll let my insurance company take care of it."

Standing stiffly, Don said, "Fine. You do that." He turned as if to go back in the building.

"Don."

The agent turned to see his brother rubbing a weary hand across his face. "What?" he asked shortly.

Charlie looked up. "There is a silver lining here, you know." Quirking an eyebrow, Don waited for him to continue. "At least it happened here, in the parking lot. If someone tampered with your truck, it could have been much worse."

Don nodded. "Thanks, buddy," he replied quietly. He glanced at the car. "A Viper, huh?"

The mathematician looked at it as well and then turned to Don, a huge grin spreading across his face. "Yeah. You should have seen it go."

"Now there's a dangerous thought," Don grinned back. "You behind the wheel of a hot, fast car?"

Charlie nodded. "I _rocked_."


End file.
